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I was shopping and entered an actual Photo Shop.
It changed me.

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It is a sublime pleasure to order a cafe mocha – and after the options are presented, to inquire whether ketchup is available.

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Just as I was about to check the “I am not a robot” box, it occurred to me that if I had been built carefully enough, I couldn’t possibly be sure.

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Whatever “the worst thing in the world to see” might be, I bet #2 is “Worst papercut in human history.”

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That guy was so efficient that even during Christmas he insists on taking a ride in a two-horse open sleigh.

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To the guy with the world’s longest arms, all shirts are short-sleeved.

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I went to the Photo Studio at the mall. I asked if they had a prison photo package.

“What do you need a prison photo package for?” the owner asked.

“I feel like I’m definitely going to murder someone and want to be prepared.”

As the security guards threw me out, it dawned on me that not everyone appreciates honesty.

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Part of the reason they don’t invite me with greater frequency?

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Evidently, I like antiques. I base that solely on the company I keep.

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The sign above the door indicates JCPenney but I’m pretty sure I’m in hell.

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While waiting for a root canal in the waiting room at the dentist, I fell asleep. I woke up, screaming, after dreaming I was actually at the DMV.

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He suddenly realized he might be crazy after all. Someone had done bunny ears in all of his selfies.

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While “more cowbell” is a cultural phrase, shoppers at Walmart do not enjoy me ringing one directly behind them. #truestory – Me holding a megaphone in the other hand as they turn to see me is probably worse.

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I must be in the Xmas spirit.

A particular person has been evil all week. After giving the benefit of the doubt several times, someone became really angry at him/her. I intervened and said, “Let me handle it.”

A while later, he/she spouted off again, so I stopped and stared.

“What the eff are you looking at,” the loudmouth asked.

Not missing a beat, I said, “I really admire assholes!”

I high-fived the previous victim so hard I might have left actual skin.

It’s tough out here in the world, where assholes run free and often unencumbered.

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Today I Learned: “Turning the other cheek” and “mooning” someone who has aggrieved you are NOT the same thing. Sorry, shoppers.

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I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus under the mistletoe. Better than last year, when Donald Trump was under there.
-From the yuletide songbook, “Non-Consensual Xmas”

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“Saying you went to Buffalo Wild Wings because you’re hungry is like jumping off a 100-story building because you need to air-dry your hair.” – X

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“Take a hike,” she said, although not out of any concern for my health.

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A co-worker questioned the amount of gray in my hair. Thanks to White-Out, there is now no doubt.  ( “White-Out – Not Just For Paper” )

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*Breaking news: a man was seen in an East Springdale cemetery, armed with a gun. Hundreds reported dead.


(No one was injured, though. My apologies if this joke offends someone – or everyone. I edited it to avoid the overactive social media police.)

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My Apologies For The Troll(s)

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Friends:

Please accept my apology, one offered to all those who may have seen some particularly hateful commentary.

Someone I know is struggling with alcoholism and mental issues. The prognosis is such that it’s not going to improve. The truth is that I’m going to simply have to tolerate it until he’s no longer able to behave inappropriately. On the one hand, what he’s doing is completely objectionable; on the other, he’s often not in charge of his own faculties, so it’s difficult to hold him accountable like I would a normal person. While what he’s doing is a crime, I ask that you ignore anything bizarre that might appear in the comments for a short time. I’ll clear, delete, and block all the offending content as soon as it’s brought to my attention. I can block by email, name, and IP; as you know, however, these are not sufficient to thwart someone who actively seeks to inflict distress or inconvenience on another person.

If you see or hear anything crazy, threatening, or angry, please let me know. (Not from me – from him. You can ignore my stupidity and treat it as normal day-to-day craziness.)

I’m not posting this to draw sympathy, prayers, or well-wishes.

It’s literally to let you know that you might see some startling things across my blog and social media. I’ll correct them as soon as they appear. I’ve spent 50+ years adjusting to the insanity of anger and addiction; a little bit more probably won’t ruin the remnants of my own sanity. I have to admit the latest round of hatred and bile thrown at me was a bit over-the-top.

Thanks, X
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The “It Is What It Is” Cliché Comparison

 

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“Truth sounds like hate to those who hate truth” has to be one of the most meaningless clichés on social media. It’s clever, but meaningless, like a quick conversation at the coffee kiosk on an early Saturday morning.

I see it used by fundamentalists, by liberals decrying the prejudices of conservatives, and all manner of people who need a convenient way to stigmatize those they identify as their detractors.

“Any quote, axiom, cliché, or saying that can be equally used by polar opposites is meaningless in all contexts. It is the “it is what it is” of social knowledge.”

A Snapshot of Memory

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*Guest Post

In this day of phones, digital cameras & easy(easier) photography the world is full of portraits & life-changing memories artfully posed, beautiful for sure yet simpler to catch. Engagements, births, holidays, moments in time long ago not as spontaneous if caught on film.

Back in my childhood photos of the ilk were less common unless you sat in a photographer’s studio- not as accessible to the working folk. You snapped a pic, waiting for the roll of film to be finished, brought it in to be developed, and usually, you got an envelope full of crossed eyes, blurry shots, laughable seconds. Few and far between were photos remarkable.

While we were not the kind to sit in a studio for a portrait, have on the walls framed photos of our time vacationing or spending a holiday, this one moment in time my father took of me is as artfully placed to be one.

Summer, on my front porch, resplendent in my bathing suit ready for running through the sprinklers. That, as I recall, was quite a looked forward to part of any sun-shiny moment then. Playing with my Rubik’s Cube- must’ve been 1980 or so.

I don’t remember much of this day, but I do remember (hindsight, mind you- as a kid I couldn’t register this) my dad got this sort of inspired look on his face and asked me to sit on the steps, against the column of the porch, and try to solve it. So I did. And he took this picture.

No digital cameras, no immediate pics to edit. Just a simple photograph on a camera with film he had to wait to develop to see if it turned out.

I think of this as my “portrait” to this day. It was a good moment. I’m thankful for that second in time captured. I think it still resembles me, captures the person I am inside. Sometimes the spontaneous becomes immutable…

 

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A Party For My Mother-In-Law

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At my mother-in-law’s 80th birthday party yesterday, we all had a laugh. The church we invaded for the party is in Fayetteville, not too far from the U of A campus. About halfway through, some of us heard a loud bang, followed by immediate darkness in the church. Because the game was about to start, we could only assume that a higher power was expressing disinterest in the game rather than our party. We were without power for the last half of the party. As it turns out, the Razorbacks were without energy for most of the game themselves. We got the better end of the bargain, in my opinion.

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Christ’s Church of Fayetteville graciously gave us the run of the fellowship and church on Saturday when we held the party.

I was tasked with getting the balloons for the roadside for the party. I bought mylar balloons and triple-tied them to each other and to a large traffic cone at the roadside entrance to the church. About 45 minutes later, I glanced through the frontside vestibule doors. A man was walking past on the sidewalk. He was holding a colorful balloon similar to the ones I displayed. It occurred to me that the odds of an adult man coincidentally having a balloon similar in appearance to mine on an early Saturday afternoon were about zero. I went out the side entrance and walked around. It turns out that the odds were indeed slim. For reasons unknown to me, he had cut off one of the decorative balloons as he passed. He looked happy, so I can only assume that a balloon was just what this fellow needed to improve his day. Besides, I couldn’t imagine calling the police to report a stolen party balloon, especially if it improved the gentleman’s day.

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Here are the two remaining balloons.

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One of the surprises I made for Julia’s birthday was a 90-page bound book, stuffed with pictures of her life. Its contents did not reflect a life reduced to mere pages. Somehow, what filled it was greater than the sum of its photographs.

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There is no greater juxtaposition in life than of age and youth unless it is the smile of each generation celebrating a year, a life, and fellowship. That one of the participants in the picture has a touch of frosting on his lips further proves the efficacy of a life of humor and good food.

I unabashedly stole the picture of Julia and Marie’s children from Marie, who I finally met after a long social media friendship. The picture best reflects the life I hope Julia has experienced and for the years awaiting her.

 

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My mother-in-law with the diamond painting of her favorite dog, a Chow; my wife worked hours on the painting.

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Julia happily looking her over surprises, as a slideshow of 300+ pictures of her life plays in the background.

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Another picture I stole from Marie, pictured on the left. This is her and Julia: cousins.

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We had somewhere around 25-30 people show up. It’s difficult to plan parties anymore. Those who attended were all happy. Julia certainly was.

Given that the lights were out for half of the party, it was a success.

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